I Have More Zeal Than Wit.

Then Marble, Soften'd Into Life, Grew Warm.

That Virtue Only Makes Our Bliss Below, And All Our Knowledge Is Ourselves To Know.

A Naked Lover Bound And Bleeding Lies!

Some To Conceit Alone Their Taste Confine, And Glittering Thoughts Struck Out At Ev'ry Line; Pleas'd With A Work Where Nothing's Just Or Fit; One Glaring Chaos And Wild Heap Of Wit.

A Fellow Feeling Makes Us Wondrous Kind.